


Runaways: The Royal Duties

by WritingforTheAvengers



Series: Runaways [2]
Category: Avengers, Black Panther - Fandom, Marvel, T'Challa - Fandom
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Pregnant Reader, Queen Reader, Smut, it's just a mix of a lot of things, just like the previous part
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 20:42:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 13,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14144166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingforTheAvengers/pseuds/WritingforTheAvengers
Summary: The days of running away are long gone, and now T'Challa and (Y/N) have duties to fulfill as monarchs of their, and each other's kingdoms. Marriage, love and duties are at stake. Will they survive, or will they call it quits?





	1. Chapter 1

When (Y/N) heard the doctor say that one word, she felt like her world crumbled apart. She looked up at her husband, whose mouth hung open just slightly, and she feared the worst; a female first born, really? If this wasn’t the 21st century, she would’ve feared for her safety and her neck. Luckily, T’Challa was not anything like Henry VIII, but still, a female first born was never a good sign; she could be the queen in (Y/N)’s country, but she was sure that Wakanda wasn’t as lenient.

“I’m going to get a print of this, and meanwhile I’m gone, you can get to clean yourself, your majesty,” the doctor handed the queen a piece of clean cloth to remove the excess gel from her abdomen. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“It’s a girl,” T’Challa said in absentmindedness. “We’re going to have a little girl,” T’Challa repeated, but in the queen’s mind it only sounded as a death sentence for her marriage.

“I know,” she replied, with her breath caught in her throat. “I’m sorry—I—”

“What?” T’Challa chimed in, taking his eyes away from the screen. “Why would you be sorry for? I mean—we’re going to have a family, (Y/N); it’s going to be our family,” he huffed nervously, making a great emphasis on ‘our’, as if it was the most important part of what he meant to say. “I—I don’t think it can get better than this—” he stuttered—“I love you, you can’t even imagine how much I love you right now.”

“But…”

“Oh love, forget about duty for once in your life,” he laughed heartedly. “Besides, I’m not a king yet, so no need to worry about that,” (Y/N) bit her bottom lip, slightly uncertain of his words. “I love you, (Y/N), and don’t let there be any doubt, alright?” (Y/N) nodded quickly. “I love you, did I already tell you that?”

“What’s her name going to be?”

“I don’t know,” the future king shrugged, “we still have a few months to think about that, right?”


	2. Chapter 2

“I’m sorry, your majesties; the baby was already dead and there was nothing we could do about it.”

She knew T’Challa was there because she’d seen him when they got to the hospital, and because the seat next to hers wasn’t empty, but something inside her had cracked and she just felt alone. She felt herself shrinking on the hard hospital bed –if you could call it a bed— and the room around her seemed to grow enormous each passing second; even the arm that sneaked behind her shoulders felt gigantic for her tiny little body. 

She wanted to hold on to her knees, but her body hurt; every cell in her body heart, even breathing seemed like a laborious task. She could hear the doctor talking to her, but her senses were so numb and gone that she knew she was staring at the other wall with her eyes completely blank. “When is this man going to shut up?” she bitterly thought as he blabbered on and on about how losing a child was completely normal, and he brought the statistics and how sorry he was about it. 

“I will need you stay here, your majesty,” he landed a hand on your shoulder and you jerked, “I am going to run some tests and leave you in observation during the night. You’ll be able to leave tomorrow morning or afternoon, tops,” the grey haired doctor, who seemed way too young to have grey hair, gave them a well-rehearsed sympathetic smile and left them alone.

“You can go home,” (Y/N) said in a barely audible whisper. Her throat wasn’t sore, but she couldn’t speak louder. “I’ll be fine.”

“No way,” T’Challa said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I don’t think I can be alone, and besides, I don’t want to leave you alone either.”

“But you’ve got no clothes here.”

“But I don’t want you to be alone, (Y/N),” he refuted. “Besides, I asked Nakia to bring a few things, and she brought your blanket and your pillow… thinking it would make you feel less… terrible,” he picked a bag from behind the chair and pulled out a green blanket that he placed on her knees and the pillow behind her back. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Is there anything to talk about?” She asked. “I mean—Lucille is gone, and there’s nothing we can do about it. It’s the one thing I’m supposed to excel at, bearing children, and I failed miserably,” she chuckled in melancholy. It was an ironic laugh for the irony of her situation. “You know… I can do many things that other women can’t; I can rule a country and be at endless meetings with hundreds of men and still have power over them; I can bring a parliament together; I can change accords to suit everyone’s benefit and I can even change a stubborn politician’s mind, but now I can feel how every woman in the world is currently laughing at me for not being able to give birth to an alive child,” her voice was plain, and the way she looked at him broke his heart. There was no spark of hope in her eyes, and the fire he always saw, was not there either.

“(Y/N), no,” T’Challa said sternly, holding her face in his hands and making her look up at him. “You are no less than any woman; you are by far the greatest woman I know and you’ll always be. This will not define you or your ability to bear children. Every woman in the world goes through this, you’re not the only one, and you will not be alone either. I was not lying when I told you that I would be with you through thick and thin,” he thumbed her cheeks to dry the tiny tears that rolled down her face. He gulped heavily to keep his tears in place. “This doesn’t make me love you less, (Y/N) I need you to understand that. If anything, I love you more now. I’ve loved you for years, this will not make me stop loving you,” he stated, in the sweetest and softest voice he could find.

“Thank you,” (Y/N) replied in a shaky voice. “Thank you so much,” she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her husband’s torso and cried her heart out. But it didn’t make her feel better; she was crying because she felt like crying, because the tears were too much to bear, but she didn’t feel any lighter. “Can you lay with me tonight?” She asked. “I don’t want to be alone in this awful bed.”

“And you won’t be,” he replied, climbing onto the bed and throwing the blanket over their bodies. Her back was pressed against his chest and his arm secured her body from leaving him.

(Y/N) felt sick, weak and numbed. She felt empty, hopeless, and tired, so goddamn tired. She wanted to go to bed, but she wanted to go to her bed, the comfort and warmth of her bed. Or maybe she just wanted to be dead, therefore she could be with her little girl, or what was left of her. She hoped there was no tomorrow for her, that her affliction ended in the dead of the night.


	3. Chapter 3

It had been a few months since Lucille had passed away, and (Y/N) was not improving. Her skin was paler than ever everyone could tell she had lost way too many pounds and her face was probably more under eye bags than anything. She paced in dismal slumber the halls of her palace when the staff went to bed, and came back a few hours later and lied sleepless in her bed.

During the day, she would sleep until very late and fake it was all good in meetings, social events, and anything that required her to be an active and functional member of society, but at night, she would wake up crying feeling sleepless again. She admitted she was probably depressed, as in real depression, but she couldn’t bring herself to go and seek professional help. “It’ll go away,” she would always say to herself in the middle of the night, when she was curled up in herself and tired of crying.

“There’s a conference in Vienna in a month, to discuss and sign the Sokovia Accords,” T’Challa said with a taint of distress at the breakfast table. He had managed to willingly take (Y/N) out of the bedroom at a socially acceptable hour. “Some of the Avengers will be there…”

“Do you really have to go?” (Y/N) asked T’Challa, almost as if she pleaded him not to go.

“Yes,” he twisted his lips. “Don’t you want to come with father and me? We could have a little vacation when it’s all done,” he offered. “What do you say? It’d be just the two of us, and I think we need it. Get some fresh air, and then come back to our duties completely renewed.”

“I don’t know,” she replied hesitatingly, “I don’t know if it’s a good time to leave… besides, I don’t know what those accords are.”

“It’s to regulate super-people,” he sighed, “to make the ones like us follow the UN’s agenda and not just act like…”

“Like savages?” (Y/N) cocked an inquiring eyebrow. 

“That’s one way to put it,” he chuckled and shook his head, “but no, what I meant was that these super-people, like the Avengers are not regulated, and they can’t go and thrash everything around them, which they already have, and repeatedly—I mean, you just have to take a look at what happened in Sokovia, New York City and Washington D.C.,” he shrugged. “I get that they protect the world from things that are beyond our understanding, but…they don’t really have to be vigilantes for that.”

“Does that make you a vigilante then?” (Y/N) cockily asked, feeling a soft titter burst from her lips, a real one for the first time in quite a while.

“Perhaps,” he flashed a smile at her and felt relieved to have elicited one form her too, “but I do follow an agenda, Wakanda’s agenda.”

“Touché,” she sipped her tea and sighed gladly. “Promise me you’ll take care, alright? That you two will come home safely and in one piece.”

“Of course, love,” he assured her, “besides, I’m bringing Ayo with us. It’ll be just fine.”

But a month later, and in a matter of a few days, it all went to shit. King T’Chaka was dead and it meant that T’Challa would most likely be the king, and that would mean that the tribes that made Wakanda a country had to pick a contender to challenge T’Challa in case they did not agree with his reign, but as far as Queen (Y/N) knew, all tribes were glad that T’Chaka’s son was going to be the future king. She didn’t think it twice, and headed straight to Wakanda to check on her husband’s health.

But bad things don’t usually come along, and with T’Challa’s arrival, a group of fugitive vigilantes came down from the jet; all of them beaten up, and one, in particularly awful conditions. As the new king walked to welcome the official committee, he leaned forward to hold his wife tightly, and allow himself to shed a few tears. The loss of a father had shaken every foundation he had so strongly built, and there she was, trying to hold a man together with her own broken self.

“I’m so sorry, darling,” she whispered to his ear, “I’m so, so sorry…” It was all she could say; she had no happy words left, not even for her husband. “He’s in a better place now,” she repeated the same words that so many people told her when they found out about Lucille’s fate; they seemed so silly now that she was using them, and as much as she tried to buy it, she couldn’t. They looked at each other for eternal seconds, and melted their lips in each other’s. “I’m guessing we’re going to need a conversation later,” she sighed heavily, “but don’t worry, it can wait as long as you need to.”

“You’re the best wife and future queen I could’ve asked for,” he smiled lightly and kissed the top of her head.

Unfortunately, things started to get more and more complicated from that moment. Grief was taking over the two of them and they fought silently the ghosts of the people that was no longer with them. (Y/N) had come and gone back home during the two months after King T’Chaka’s death, but as she no longer felt comfortable around her uncaring husband, she decided to say her goodbyes and come back to her kingdom.

“Please, stay a little bit longer,” T’Challa pleaded. “I don’t think I can be alone anymore… I need you by my side.”

“I can’t stay, there are some things that need my attention back home,” she lied. “Alexei’s been taking care of the kingdom while I’m gone, but… I’m sorry, I just need to go home,” she shook her head as she calmly folded her clothes into her suitcase. 

“I’m sure Alexei won’t mind that you stay here a while.”

“Yes, but I miss my home,” Queen (Y/N) replied in an exasperated voice. “Sorry,” she hurried to apologize, “I didn’t mean to sound like that, I just… I just think you need some time to be with your family without me being an intruder,” she looked at him with kind eyes. “Besides, you still need to take care of… your guests.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, T’Challa,” she breathed, “it means nothing,” she wasn’t in the mood for fighting, or even having that dreaded, but very necessary, conversation about how much she disliked the band of fugitives he was taking care of. “I’m leaving in an hour, so I’ll go say goodbye to your mother and Shuri,” she zipped the suitcase and carried it herself outside the door, but T’Challa stopped her by grabbing his arm firmly.

“What’s wrong with you?” He growled.

“What's wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?” She pushed him away. “You’re the one who let some criminals into his country and who is currently treating them like guests of honor, T’Challa, not me!” She spat back. “I get that you lost your father, but that doesn’t give you any right to make any stupid decision. I lost my child and you don’t see me protecting fugitives, now do you?” 

“No, but I don’t see you making a difference either,” he cocked an eyebrow.

“Oh, I’m sorry for not being enhanced,” Queen (Y/N) placed a hand on her chest, “I was busy being a normal person and just making my difference form where I stand,” she shrugged. “I guess trying to stop child marriage isn’t as important as saving the whole damned world, silly me.”

“Don’t be like that.”

“Then what? What do you want from me then? Do you want me to support my unsupportive husband? Do you want me to be with him when he has clearly not been there with me while I grieve for our daughter while he goes out and plays hero? Do you want that?” (Y/N) was not expecting a witty comeback, so she continued. “I don’t want to feel lonely around you anymore, I need—no, I want my husband, I want to grieve with him because I know damn well how it feels to lose a parent; he of all people should know that. I also want my husband to be emotionally available because I can’t do this alone—” her breath got caught in her windpipe as a stream of tears threatened to come out. “I need you, T’Challa… Losing Lucille has been terrible for me, and I feel like I haven’t had you to help me cope with it…” (Y/N) took a deep breath and kept walking. “Tell your mom and sister that I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye, but I had some other business to attend.”


	4. Chapter 4

T’Challa couldn’t escape his duties in (Y/N)’s kingdom, for he was, after all, still a prince, but he couldn’t even look at his wife who, so gracefully, faked a smile and polite small talk with everyone who approached her. It didn’t seem like she was grieving, and it was only then when T’Challa realized that it was the little things that gave her away. For instance, the way she tossed and turned on the bed and how drowsy she was the next morning, or that she had to get sleeping pills to put an end to a 5 days in a row of no sleep at all, and on top of that, she had to cover her sadness under tons and tons of makeup that he couldn’t even name.

At every meeting, the guilt crawled down his back at his inability to do something, to take action into his wife’s sadness. She could see how that smile broke the second she stepped out of the meetings. But there she was, wearing a stoic smile and giving everyone a firm handshake with an arm so thin and bony that it would surely break; she didn’t, nevertheless.

By the end of their third meeting in a row, T’Challa decided to have a moment to talk to (Y/N), in private.

“But we have another meeting, darling,” she calmly said.

“They can wait, you’re the queen,” he refuted. “Look, I want to say I’m sorry for not being here when you needed me, for neglecting you as a wife and as a mother who lost her child—I lost her too, but the way we go through this process has been different. I try to keep myself busy, but now that father is gone I… I just feel lost, and I feel like I’m losing you too, and I don’t want that,” he shook his head. “I know I have been a terrible husband ever since Lucille passed away, and I don’t want you to feel like you can’t reach out for me, because you can, you know you do. Just… yell at me, shake me, I—I just… I just don’t want to lose you, (Y/N), I swear I don’t…” He cupped (Y/N)’s face and stared into each other’s eyes for infinite seconds. “I’m sorry… I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not your fault—not entirely,” she conceded. “I have been avoiding you and just trying to get by on my own, but I can’t… I need you, I need my husband with me—”

“And you will have me—I will be here when you want to, whatever you want me for—I swear.”

“I love you,” Queen (Y/N) sighed and leaned forward to kiss her husband’s lips. “Now, we still have got a meeting to attend,” she thumbed his temples and let him go. “Hurry up, or they’ll leave,” she urged, wearing a wide smile on her face, one of pure joy.

* * *

That same night, T’Challa had decided to break the news to (Y/N) about his plans. In just a few days, he had made arrangements to go to the Maldives on a gorgeous holiday; he had even cancelled all meetings their majesties could have both in Wakanda and in (Y/N)’s kingdom so as to be completely free. Besides, he knew that both countries would be in good hands while they were busy making love in the moonlight and having exotic dinners.

“You’re leaving so soon?” (Y/N) asked him with a taint of sadness in her voice as she saw him pack a ridiculously big amount of stuff. “And why are you packing my stuff?”

“Oh, didn’t you get the memo? We’re going on holiday—can’t say no.”

“Well, I will say no anyway because we’ve got stuff to do,” she refuted anyway.

“I’ve taken care of it all, your brother will stay here and look for the kingdom while we’re gone and mother will do the same for me,” he replied simply. “By the way, which one do you like better? You honestly have so many that I don’t know if I can choose…” he pulled up a few bikini tops he found in her wardrobe and before she could answer, he began again. “I mean, I like this one,” he waved a turquoise one that he, indeed, liked a lot, “but I don’t know if you’re going to use it anyway.”

“And why should I wear a bikini in the first place?”

“We’re going to the Maldives on a romantic get-away. We’re leaving tonight. I will choose this one anyway because nudity may not be allowed,” he gently folded the top and its corresponding bottom and placed on top of a lot of (Y/N)’s clothing. “I already checked the weather and we’ll have only sunny days while we’re there.”

“I think I’ll carry a little something I bought the other day,” (Y/N) said with a naughty smile as she walked towards the wardrobe and searched for the piece of lingerie that she had been saving for a special moment. “Ah! Here you are!” She clicked her tongue and turned around to flaunt the burgundy piece of clothing to her husband. “Do you like it?” She asked, being quite impressed by T’Challa’s expression of awe. “You don’t?” She pouted. “Well,” she threw the garment over the bed and started unbuttoning her striped shirt, “perhaps you won’t like this thing either,” she sighed heavily as she revealed a black, lace bustier that held on to her curves perfectly.

T’Challa chuckled in amusement, leaving the packing aside to check more closely the undergarment that his wife so proudly flaunted. “Like is an understatement,” he smiled wickedly as he roamed his hands through the intricate fabric. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around his shoulders and let her hands hang behind his neck. T’Challa held on to her waist as he pulled her closer to his body. “I love you, gorgeous thing,” he said, leaning forward to place soft kisses on her neck. He could feel how her pulse agitated underneath his lips. The queen moaned lightly as he sank his teeth on her skin. “Get yourself together and let me pack,” T’Challa murmured, “you evil woman.”

* * *

After a romantic and well deserved dinner, the two majesties sneaked out to their hotel with a passion worthy of their younger days. Their hands roamed all over each other’s bodies, feeling one another as if it was the very first time.

(Y/N) was in between the door and T’Challa’s body, squirming and trembling beneath him and his touch. She rolled up her dress to her waist and the king helped her jump and wrap her legs around him. The friction of his erection against her was delightful, but she needed more. She wanted her husband to be completely hers again.

She skilfully unbuttoned his expensive shirt and tossed it onto the floor. She was mesmerized at the perfection of her husband’s body, and in a blink, she remembered the first time they saw each other in their most natural state. Her tears filled with eyes and it suddenly became hard to breath.

“What happened, my love?” T’Challa asked as helped her come down. “Am I…?”

“I just got a bit emotional, that’s all,” the queen shook her head. “I thought of the first time we were together,” she sighed. “I was so scared, but not anymore…” She cupped his face and looked straight at him. “I love you, T’Challa. I love you so much. And I want to be yours tonight. Make me yours.”

“You’ll always be mine, (Y/N),” he smiled gently. “No matter what happens in our future. You’ll be mine and no one else’s.”

They melted in each other’s bodies, tasting one another as if it was the very first time. Their skins filled with goose bumps at the anticipation of being together like the first time. T’Challa unzipped her dressed and pushed it down her torso, revealing one of the new underwear she had bought. As much as he enjoyed the treat, he wanted her to be completely free of all clothing. Leading her to the bed, they fell together onto the soft bedding.

T’Challa’s rolled his hips against his wife’s wetness and she moaned softly, throwing her head deeper onto the mattress. Her hands tugged at the waist of his underwear, and with his help, she got rid of his and hers too.

Her nudity flustered him, as it had done a hundred times before. She was just so marvelous to the normal sight, and he felt blessed to have her writhing under him. He loved to touch her and to make her feel good, it was one of the things he lived for. He wasn’t really good at words, but he was good at doing stuff and getting things done. He wanted to say he was sorry for neglecting her for so long. It wasn’t in his plans to do so; he loved her way too much to even think about consciously hurting her.

But he wanted to make things up; make them right once and for all. And sex was going to be his weapon. One of his hands sneaked down her torso and found the source of her wetness. She whined, arching her back towards him and away from the bedding. She held on to his broad shoulders as he kept playing with her clit.

He carefully slid one finger, and the sound that came out from her was no longer soft. The ecstasy poured out of her. She wanted this, every bit of it. She wanted to feel loved by the man she loved; she wanted to be his once again.

Before she could come, T’Challa pulled his fingers out, eliciting a frown from his wife. But he wasn’t going to stop there. His mouth draw a line of kissed down her stomach until he reached the most intimate spot in her body. He spread her legs to find his target, and leapt forward. He was having a feast out of her. She was that fresh water in the middle of the driest desert, she was life. She was his life. She was his everything.

(Y/N) tangled her shaky fingers on his hair, trying to keep him in place, but she moved so violently on the bed that it was her who needed to be kept still. She screamed in pleasure and gasped for air almost at the same time, and when she could lift her head enough to meet his eyes, she felt weak once again and dropped her head back.  
It all changed when his fingers joined the party.

“God—oh god!” She squealed. “T’Challa, yes… I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” he growled. “Do it for me, baby.”

She took one last breath before coming undone. She convulsed on the bed, trying to keep herself together but she could feel how every little part of her sense ran away. Once she opened her eyes again, she saw T’Challa hovering over her, getting ready to fill her. She took her hands to his neck and pulled him closer to kiss him. His plump lips molded perfectly with hers, and as the kiss deepened, he pushed himself towards her.

The rhythm was slow at first, he wanted to feel her warmth completely. He was under no pressure that night. There would be no meetings afterwards, nothing to hurry them. That night, it was just the two of them.

She traced his back and arms with her fingers, digging in his skin when he rocked harder against her. It was a great effort for her to even look at her husband, but when she found his eyes looking right back at her, she felt it. She knew it. He loved her still, with the ups and downs, with the mourning, the fighting and the duties. She loved him, she adored him. He was her world.

They made love until their bodies trembled, and together, they slid under the covers.

“I love you,” T’Challa whispered to his wife’s ear. “And I’m sorry for everything that happened…”

“I love you too, T’Challa,” she sighed, feeling his hot breath on the back of her neck. “It’s all forsaken now, love,” she took a hand to his, which rested on her stomach. “We’ll get our well-deserved fairy tale.”


	5. Chapter 5

Two years later, Queen (Y/N) and King T’Challa were presenting their firstborn to the public. People in Wakanda were celebrating almost as if it was a national holiday, for the birth of their soon to be king, throwing parties and decorating the streets with toys and whatnots, to welcome the child once he got home. (Y/N)’s kingdom would do the same once the royal family was there too.

“So, how are we going to name him?” King T’Challa asked, caressing the baby’s head. The tiny bundle of joy was on his mom’s arms, being cradled by (Y/N), who couldn’t truly believe that he was there with her. It seemed like such an eternity since Lucille’s passing that she wasn’t sure she was the same person.

“I want to name him Leon, it kind of represents both of us, I think,” Queen (Y/N) replied with a soft voice, “but I’ve also done my research, and I found a gorgeous name for him, so he could have two names… Abioye,” she looked up at her husband, whose lips slowly curved on a smile. “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” T’Challa replied, reaching out a hand to place it under her chin. “I love it, I love him, I love you, (Y/N),” his eyes filled with happy tears. “You’ve made me the happiest, and luckiest man alive once again, love,” he said. “I know what you’re going to say, what he means as a boy to our kingdoms, but I want you to forget about that for a while. I want us to enjoy and rejoice the birth of our little man, I want us to enjoy his childhood and be with him as much as we can. Duties are always there, but I don’t want to think about them, deal?”

“Sometimes I can’t believe how much you know me, T’Challa,” (Y/N) sighed heavily, holding back a soft titter. “Or is it that you’re a clairvoyant?” She teased him. 

“That, you’ll never know,” he placed a soft kiss on her forehead and on Leon’s forehead too. 

They were soon interrupted by Queen Ramonda and Princess Shuri who were eagerly sneaking from a narrow space of the door. T’Challa signaled them to come inside. The former queen couldn’t help but crying at the sight of her first grandson in his mother’s arms, and even though she wished T’Chaka was there with her to witness this beautiful and moving moment, she knew that he was looking at all of them from heaven. Shuri was slightly reluctant to hold the baby, but she looked form over her mother’s shoulder with great joy as her restless brain already planned what toys and gadgets to build for the new member of the family.

“Your father would be proud of you,” Ramonda said in a very overwhelmed voice to the new parents, “both of your fathers. They would be as proud as I feel now. So, what are you going to name this handsome little man?”

“Leon Abioye,” T’Challa proudly repeated. “Great name, for a great future king.”

“May I… hold him?” Ramonda asked fearfully. “It’s been so long since I last held a child; I think you were the last one, Shuri,” she looked at her daughter with loving eyes. “Oh, darling, can you bring (Y/N) the things that were sent to the castle?” She asked her. “They’re just outside with Okoye and Ayo,” the teenage girl obediently obliged while (Y/N) allowed to carry the baby boy. “Oh dear heavens,” she spoke in a soft voice that probably no one had ever heard, “look at you, oh goodness. Aren’t you the most handsome boy?” She gently rocked him in her arms. “Yes, of course you are—I know you are. You’re a blessing to all of us, and you’re even cuter than your daddy when he was a baby, so you’re very lucky too,” she teased the newborn, eliciting a soft giggle from (Y/N) and a hot blush on T’Challa’s cheeks. “Lucky for you, (Y/N), he grew up to be handsome, right?”

“Indeed he did,” she cupped T’Challa’s face in her hands and kissed him tenderly. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, congrats baby daddy.”

“Congrats, baby momma,” he replied with a bubbly laugh bursting from his lips. “Shuri, do you want to hold him?”

“I think I’ll pass for now,” she said and shook her head, “but you can be sure that I’m going to spoil that child with tiny panther suits,” she smiled widely.


	6. Chapter 6

Prince Leon was 5 and he was ready to leave home schooling to go to a normal one. (Y/N) had gone to one and she turned out quite alright, but T’Challa was particularly unwilling to let his son, the future king, go to a school with normal people, but his true concern was that he didn’t go to school in Wakanda. That’s how the first fight began.

Unfortunately, they never truly got to an agreement, and it didn’t stop them from fighting on more occasions.

One day, Queen (Y/N) was writing some notes that she had recorded from a meeting that was too boring to pay full attention to when T’Challa abruptly stormed into her study with a white envelope in his hand and an enraged expression.

“What is this supposed to mean, (Y/N)?” He violently tossed the letter onto her desk. “And do you want to explain why is it addressed to you only?”

“It’s a letter from the school I told you about,” she glanced quickly at the envelope as she kept typing almost unconsciously. “I sent them one asking about the requirements for our little man to go there as we had talked and that must be the reply, did you get to read it?”

“They say they will let him in immediately, but why haven’t I been consulted on this?”

“T’Challa darling, I believe it’s high time Leo goes to school. He’s five and he needs to socialize with people his own age. You know I love Shuri with all of my heart,” he placed a hand to her chest, “but she’s got some new interests now that she’s a true grown up. So what a better place to do so than school?”

“Maybe a school in Wakanda?” He rose an eyebrow.

“We’ve talked about this, T’Challa,” Queen (Y/N) said in a melodic voice as she closed her computer and intertwined her hands over it. “We agreed to take Leo to a school here, and when he was old enough, he would go to high school in Wakanda, plus the military training,” she pointed out. “Once he decides what he wants to major in, he would make the choice because he’d most probably be an adult by then, so don’t change our terms. That’s not fair.”

“He should have a stable education, and do it all in Wakanda,” King T’Challa replied stubbornly. “I don’t understand why he should be even here.”

“Because he’s going to be the king of this country one day too. He needs to learn our history too, don’t you think?” (Y/N) kindly reminded him. “Wait, let me see what the letter says,” she took it and quickly scanned the content. “Isn’t this marvelous?” The queen clapped her hands in delight. “They say he could be admitted this September, and… oh! Here it says that he’s passed the tests with, quotes, great qualifications… though I’d like to see them myself… just to make sure, of course.”

“Are you really going to ignore my opinion in the matter?”

“Darling,” (Y/N) said in exasperation, “as the mother of that child, I am entitled to make decisions about what I want and what I don’t want for his life, which I would like to do; as your wife, I am entitled to make concessions about the life of our child, which I would like to do too; most importantly, as a queen, I am entitled do and undo as I please here, which I’d actually like to do too. I wish you could respect me and my decisions.”

“Do I have no saying on his education then?” T’Challa folded his arms on his chest.

“You do,” she sighed, “but you agreed to this plan and I wish you could stick to it. No, I want you to stick to it,” she said firmly.

“I can’t believe you’ve taken the decision without consulting me,” T’Challa shook his head and with firm steps, he walked away and out of the study, slamming the door behind him.

_10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…_   
_10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…_   
_10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…_   
_10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…_

Queen (Y/N) counted in between deep breaths as she fought to keep her composure intact. She tried not to dwell too much on the topic, for she knew T’Challa could be a bit stubborn; he’d give in, eventually, with time. It could make him angry for a while, but she didn’t really care. She tried to stay strong, because it was still her son’s future.

When she believed to have had enough of Wakandians for one day —or lifetime— the Queen Mother appeared through the doorframe with her usual calmness, but she couldn’t hide a worried expression that took over her features. (Y/N) had opened her laptop again to keep working, but faking it did not come as natural as she would’ve liked.

“What do I owe the honor, your majesty?” (Y/N) asked in cold politeness. “You seem troubled.”

“I am, darling,” Queen Ramonda replied in a sigh. “I am worried about you—you two.”

“You needn’t worry,” Queen (Y/N) assured her, trying to persuade her to get her nose in her marriage and businesses. The woman always appeared to be neutral, but the younger queen knew deep inside that a mother would always advocate for her son. This was not an exception. “T’Challa is having a hard time accepting that our son needs to be schooled here, but he will eventually come around, I’m sure,” the queen faked a soft smile.

“I know I shouldn’t meddle in your marriage or the bringing up of your son,” ‘ _well, then fucking don't_ ’, (Y/N) thought bitterly as she waited for the rest of that sentence, “but I believe I have some experience to guide you,” Ramonda spoke softly. “I understand you want part of his education to be here, and I absolutely support you on that, and I’ve tried to talk to T’Challa about it but… why can’t Leo go to school in Wakanda?”

“Because I made a deal with _my_ husband,” (Y/N) said in an unfriendly voice. “He agreed, completely conscious if I may add, that Leo would have his first years of education here and he’d go to high school in Wakanda, why is that so hard to understand? I mean—what am I? Do I get a vote on my son’s life?”

“It’s not about that—”

“Then what is it? Tell me! What is it?” (Y/N) asked in a no longer composed manner. “Because it seems like all I do is wrong, and your son is doing nothing but reminding me of that,” she pushed herself away from the desk on her chair. “He doesn’t like anything I do, and he has not liked a single thing I do in the past… what? 5 years? If, and only if,” she warned, “we are to go on like this…” she sighed heavily. “Never mind,” she shook her head. “The decision is made, Leon is starting school this September. Tell T’Challa that he can cry and whine about this as much as he wants, but I will not change my mind. He knows we had a deal and it’s him who doesn’t want to respect it.”

“Are you sure about this?” Ramonda asked, trying to change her daughter-in-law’s mind one last time.

“Completely sure,” sentenced Queen (Y/N).


	7. Chapter 7

King T’Challa ended up accepting the fate of his son, and there he was on his first day of school. Pride aside, he was still very proud to see how much he had grown. The monarchs held hands tenderly, and it seemed like a long time since both of them had done that. They exchanged loving looks all morning and shared with the rest of the parents who seemed too stunned to have their majesties around them.

“Your majesties,” a young woman who seemed way too young to be a teacher said with a polite voice and a bow of her head. “It’s a great honor that you’ve chosen this school for your child. We will try to bring him the best education that we can.”

“I remember being here when I was a little girl,” Queen (Y/N) said. “Though, of course, it’s quite changed. Believe it or not, I was quite a rebel,” she gave her husband a side eye and a mischievous smile. “I’m sure Leon’s education will be of excellence. Mine indeed was. Oh—and please drop the titles here at school, we are merely parents, just like everybody else; if anything, you’re the boss here, this is your kingdom. Leo will not even come to school with a bodyguard.”

But peace didn’t last very long, and three years later, marriage was turned into a battlefield, and the only thing that kept it from falling apart into pieces was Leo, who was now an 8-year-old child with too many responsibilities on his young shoulders. 

He was bound to become the king to two nations that were completely different from each other, and on top of that, he had the birth right to become the ancient warrior of one of them. So he not only needed to learn all the things related to politics, history and social skills, but he also needed to start a physical training to become the warrior that has protected Wakanda for generations. (Y/N) was reluctant to let her son become a warrior at such early age.

To keep her mind away from those thoughts, (Y/N) worked on a project for Leo’s school, a project with his old teacher and the younger ones. The year after he got into that school, the teacher asked the queen if she could reply the letters from the youngest students, the ones who were first coming into the institution. At first she felt quite surprised that they had chosen her for that, especially when a word of encouragement could be provided by the same headmistress, but she eagerly awaited each September to start working on the replies to the children. 

“Why didn’t Miss Jenkins asked you this when I was at school?” Leo asked from under her desk.

“Because she was afraid to ask,” Queen (Y/N) replied without looking at him, “and besides you were in that class and she thought she was freeing you from mortification.”

“That Miss Jenkins is quite a smart woman,” Prince Leo said in a grave voice.

The footman next to the door announced a visitor, and the queen left aside her work. Leo was wandering around her office and looking through some old papers that his mother had discarded, although being too young to understand what they really meant, he knew they must have been important at some point. Nakia came in through the door, and with a solemn bow, she greeted the young prince and his mother.

“His majesty is looking for Prince Leo,” she said.

“Yes, of course,” (Y/N) replied as she stood up from her desk. “Leo, love, do go on, please,” she kneeled and the child kissed her cheek goodbye and calmly walked away. Nakia petted his head lovingly on his way out and the two women were left alone with the footman. “Nakia, may I have a word with you? It’ll be just a minute.”

“Yes, your majesty,” Nakia replied with a perplexed expression. 

“Frederick, please leave us alone,” she ordered the footman, and before he went out, Queen (Y/N) hurried to add. “If someone looks for me, tell them I’m busy,” Frederick nodded silently and left the room. The queen indicated a chair, a few meters away from the desk, and they sat in front of the other. “This is a very delicate topic, and I require you to not say a word to anyone, especially T’Challa, or his mother.”

“It must be quite important then if you have to ask me to betray my oath,” Nakia pursed her plump lips and crossed one leg over the other, “but, what can I do for you, your majesty?”

“First of all? Please, drop the tittle. You’re my friend, Nakia; we’ve been friends for what? Ten years?” (Y/N) twisted her lips. “You’re my child’s godmother and… you happen to know my husband, sometimes, better than I do.”

“Well, what is it then?”

“I need to let it out of my system, I must confess I am really tired,” the queen sighed heavily, running her fingers through her hair. “Nakia, I am sick of being the one who gives up all the time. I understand that a marriage is sometimes letting your significant other take the wheel, because eventually you will have to do it too, and then it’ll be somewhat equal, but this… I know I have a duty as T’Challa’s wife, and that my son has a duty too as the future king and warrior, but why can’t T’Challa understand that Leo has duties here too? Why must he be so selfish? I have been completely compliant, even though I had a very dark time myself when we lost Lucille and his father just months after, and I tried to be very supportive when he brought the fugitives to Wakanda, which happens to be my country too, because I am also a queen there. I have the strangest feeling that I’m getting nothing in return,” (Y/N) sighed as if the rant had left her breathless, even though she tried to keep her composure throughout the monologue. 

“Look,” Nakia sighed heavily, rubbing her dark hands and trying her best to find the most suitable words, “I see your point, and I think you’re right. T’Challa can be very demanding, and be very uhh… he doesn’t give much—but he doesn’t mean wrong, he loves you—”

“And I don’t doubt it,” (Y/N) chimed in, “I swear to I god I don’t, but I don’t know what the loves the most, if me or his duty. I know what my duties are, but I still try to leave time for my personal life; if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be married to him or anyone for that matter, but now I feel so alone, and I don’t want Leo to notice there’s something wrong, but I’m sure he knows what’s up, he’s too smart.”

“Have you tried talking to T’Challa?”

“Can you ever pull that trick?” (Y/N) chuckled gloomily. “He feels so unreachable, and he’s making me be like that too. I am running away from him all the time, hiding in my office or making up excuses to not be with him,” in her sad eyes, the tears threatened to run down her cheeks, “I never wanted this for us, especially now that we do have a child and I know he’s not happy.”

“Sit him down and make him listen,” Nakia took the queen’s hands and held her gaze. “Hell, strap him to the chair if it’s necessary, but he can’t get away with his like he always does.”

“I don’t wanna fight right now,” (Y/N) pursed her lips, “in fact, I need some time alone, away from him…”

“What do you mean?”

“I need a break from him,” (Y/N) said softly. “I need a break from this marriage…”

“You’re a most dear friend, and though I don’t really agree with the choice you’ve made, I will still support you in everything you do because you need it right now, and I’m not leaving you, never.”

The two women held each other with tight arms as they cried bitterly. Nakia knew what it was like to not receive a thing from T’Challa; she that feeling too well and it was one of the reasons why their relationship never prospered, and as much obligations she had with him, Nakia also had obligations towards the queen of Wakanda. (Y/N) felt a sudden relief after that heartfelt conversation with her friend. She was glad to have one at this point in her life.


	8. Chapter 8

(Y/N) was called to Dr. Helen Jones’s office and she regretted having taken this decision right when she heard the first syllable of her name. She decided to search for help away from home; as so many people had seen her upbringing back there, it was better to have an outsider’s perspective on her marriage problems.

“I just want to let you know that I am still not comfortable with the idea of venting my problems to a stranger,” Queen (Y/N) said as she reluctantly sat down, “but I know I need help.”

It was Nakia’s idea to get professional help, and as much as she dreaded the thought and following action, (Y/N) knew her friend was right. The room was what she imagined that a simple home would look like; the houses that are usually shown on TV. The décor was simple and there was a very obvious divan was placed right before a windowpane that let in the cold light of the winter sun. Next to the queen, a wooden vase stood proudly, eliciting a soft smile from her lips as it reminded her of the good things that Africa had given her.

Helen, the therapist, was a middle aged woman with ebony hair down to her shoulders, and tender chocolate eyes; contrary to the queen’s belief, the woman was wearing very normal clothes and not a toga, as she first thought. The doctor seemed to be none the wiser about the identity of her newest patient, or maybe it was just a trick, (Y/N) thought that all these people did that, appear calm and collected and then, bam! They would take all her sanity and money away.

“Not many people are strong enough to say that,” Helen calmly said. “It takes courage to accept the thought, so you can imagine how hard it is to actually put it into words that one needs help,” she pursed her thin lips into a fine line. “Now, how about we make the introductions? What do you do for a living?”

“I am a politician—and I will not answer any further questions on that matter.”

“That answer doesn’t come as a surprise now, it was very diplomatic of you to say something like that, (Y/N),” Helen conceded, “but this is not a meeting with ministers and senators that you can just… slither away from when things get uncomfortable, so I’m going to need a bit more than just that.”

“I am a queen, both as a birth right and as consort,” (Y/N) exhaled heavily. “My country is a small one that not many people has heard of, but it’s located here in Europe. My husband is the king of an African nation,” the black haired woman looked at the queen with her eyes wide open. “We have a son, Leon, and he’s to become king to our nations someday.”

“That sounds like a lot for a young woman like yourself and your son, who I guess is still a child, or at least, he’s very young,” the doctor commented while she jotted down some notes. “I don’t know if you’d be happy to know this, but many monarchs in history have had therapists too, Queen Elizabeth II had a few during her life; especially when her marriage was on the rocks.”

“She is a very wise woman,” (Y/N) smiled lightly, “we met a few times during these years I’ve been a queen.”

“So, when or where do your problems begin?”

“When our son was about 3 or 4,” (Y/N) furrowed her brows as she tried to recall what it seemed like a lifetime. “My husband and I were fighting over where he should go to school, and until he got into school it was a constant fight. I’m sure Leon heard us a few times because he would crawl into our bed and refused to leave. He would create so many excuses, and I’m afraid I damaged him forever.”

Queen (Y/N) kept venting her problems, and now she understood why Nakia had suggested therapy. After her short hour, she felt much better and relieved; though the doctor was clear and emphatic when she said that she was worried about her mental health; (Y/N) could feel it coming, and she was ready for whatever came her way.

“So, do you think I should split up with my husband?” Queen (Y/N) asked, feeling way lighter in her heart. 

“I can’t tell you that,” Dr. Jones blinked in awe. “My job is to listen to you, to listen to your problems, to help you see your options… but I can’t tell you what to do,” she shrugged. “You have to make up your mind about it.”

“I think I know what I have to do,” (Y/N) pinched the bridge of her nose. “But I know that it’ll bring pain to a lot of people.”

“It’s not selfish to think about one’s health once in a while,” Helen shook her head. “In a work like yours, you need to be completely well in order to make the best decisions for your people. Health is not only physical, it’s also mental, emotional… and I see you’re physically healthy. At least, you look like that,” she rose her palms, “but in an hour of talking to you I can tell you’re not mentally or emotionally healthy,” she sentenced. “And I am starting to get worried, because you not only have a family. You have thousands of families to take care of, and that’s a lot of pressure for a young woman like yourself…” she took a deep breath. “So this is the only time I’ll tell you what to do, alright?” Queen (Y/N) nodded. “I want you to stop thinking about whatever the hell the others will think about the decisions you make. I want you to think if what you’re doing—if how you’re living right now is making you happy, and if it’s not… I want you to change it. I want you to take care of yourself for once in your life. You’re always taking care of everybody else, do it for you.”

“Does that mean that I have to divorce my husband?”

“No,” Helen shook her head. “Again, I am not entitled to tell you what to do, but if you think it’s the best choice for you… Then I don’t think there’s much to talk about.”


	9. Chapter 9

It all began when T’Challa slammed the door on their bedroom. The staff was hopeless after they were all kicked out in angry yells. Queen (Y/N) looked at her husband feeling afraid of him. He wasn’t a violent man, but she had never seen him acting like that.

She was sitting on the bed and her heart was beating like a drum. Her breath was erratic as she tried hard not to run away from him. She held on tightly to the bedding and searched for some inner strength to help her carry on. 

“What did you tell our son?” T’Challa growled. “Why doesn’t he want to be schooled in Wakanda?”

“What are you even talking about?” The queen narrowed her eyes and shook her head.

“I just spoke to him and he said he wants to be here forever,” his nostrils fluttered and she was ready to jump up and fight him. “What did you tell him?”

“What did I tell him?” She repeated the question, with a voice louder than she expected. “Are you kidding me? Look at the things you tell him! When was the last time you asked about his day at school? Or about his classmates? Do you know if he has a crush on a classmate? Do you know anything about your son that’s not related to duties?”

“You are the one in charge of that part, not—”

“Oh, heavens,” Queen (Y/N) cut him off and rolled her tired eyes. “Are you serious? You are as much of a parent as I am. Take part in his life before you wake up one day and you see a complete stranger before you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Do you know anything about your son?” (Y/N) gave her a shit-eating grin. “I mean, apart from the fact that he is indeed your son, do you know anything about him? Have you sat down with him to find things out? Or do you just talk about duties with him? T’Challa, it’s no surprise Leon doesn’t want to go to Wakanda, because he thinks it will mean that he has to become the Black Panther and that it will leave no space for the things that make him happy, which by the way… do you know what these things are?”

“We had a deal, (Y/N),” T’Challa unkindly reminded her. “We had a deal and I demand you hold up your part of it.”

“You’re talking as if I was the intransigent one…” the queen’s voice lowered the volume.

“You were the one who didn’t want to put Leon in a school in Wakanda at first.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She asked in a high pitch voice. “T’Challa, use your brain and tell me who insisted on breaking the one deal we made about our son. It was you, it was you all along,” she inhaled sharply. “I love you, T’Challa, heaven knows I do,” (Y/N) said sternly, “but I don’t think I can love you if you impose me things. This is not how a relationship works,” she sighed heavily, keeping her eyes fixed on him. “We both knew from the beginning that this was going to be quite hard, but I never thought it’d be this hard, I don’t think it’s even worth it.”

“What is that supposed to mean, (Y/N)?”

“I need some time,” she stated. “I need some time to think about us, if I really want to go through this much trouble—”

“What trouble?”

“The trouble you’re bringing!” She yelled. “I’ve been trying to raise our child,” she pointed at herself with both her hands, “trying to give him the most normal life that I can, but even he knows he won’t get a chance at normal because his father’s constantly telling him about the many duties that he must fulfill. For Christ’s sake, he’s 8, T’Challa, he’s fucking 8!” Her chest heaved erratically as she tried to get well-composed again. “I get it, he’s going to be the king to both our nations and the Black Panther one day,” she continued after a deep breath, “but can you please let him live a normal childhood? Can you please let me raise our child the way I think it’s best for him?”

“I will not let you raise our child alone—” 

“Well, I bet he spends most of the time here for a reason, and you have to deal with your group of fugitives,” Queen (Y/N) rose her eyebrows quickly in an accusing manner. “I will not question your raising methods because you and I were raised quite differently—”

“Yes, (Y/N), we were” T’Challa conceded. “Because, unlike you, I was raised to become a warrior, not prince charming. Besides, you won’t let me take him to school in Wakanda.”

“Silly me, I thought we had agreed that he would go to high school and take your military training in Wakanda, as long as he received his first education here,” she exhaled, feeling suddenly tired and trying to keep the tears in her eyes. She bit her bottom lip harshly, to keep it from trembling and showing weakness, and shaking her head she continued. “I need a break, T’Challa,” she said simply, in a emotionless voice, “I need a break from you, and if I am going to have a safe pregnancy, I think it’s best that we stay away from each other for a few months,” she lamented not having told him before the fights increased their volume. “I’m sorry for breaking the news like this, I wish I’d told you this earlier, maybe it would’ve changed something between us,” she shrugged.

“You’re pregnant and you didn’t tell me?” He exclaimed. “How can you be so selfish?”

“Me, being selfish?” She growled. “T’Challa, are you fucking kidding me? I have literally given you everything you’ve asked for. You wanted a wife? You have one. You wanted a queen for your nation? You have it. You wanted a child to be your successor? You have it, but I will never give you blind obedience because this is the 21st century and I get to make my own rules too.”

“And what do you want, then?”

“I want a break from our marriage,” the queen said coldly. “Don’t call me or reach out to me unless strictly necessary. It’s painful to have a husband who doesn’t really support me, and I’ve learnt that the hard way and with enough sessions of therapy, which I don’t know if you knew, but I’ve been going for the past year.”

“How could I know? You keep hiding things from me, (Y/N).”

“Would you have listened?” (Y/N) sat down and sighed heavily, feeling another rush of tears pooling in her tired eyes. “Let’s use this time to figure out what we want from the other. I know I want the man I married, who’s completely different from the man I am seeing today. I know he’s in there, somewhere hidden behind the stoic façade of a new monarch. I want him because we have a family together.”

T’Challa sat down next to her, and holding his head in his hands, he softly started crying; something he hadn’t allowed himself to do in what it seemed forever. (Y/N) placed a loving hand on his back, gently stroking it with circular motions. That seemed to sooth T’Challa just a little.

“I love you, T’Challa, I love you very much—”

“Then why can’t we figure this out together?”

“Because you’re not giving up, and I’ve given up enough times. This is not a tug of war where one of us has to have the upper hand. This is a marriage, and we have to make concessions, you can’t win all the time. Go to Wakanda,” she said in a barely audible whisper, “be the king they need you to be, think about the many years we’ve been together and think about all the things that have shaped our relationship, what have you done? What have I done? What would you change about yourself, about me? And once you’ve figured all out, call me, let me know. No matter how long it takes.”

“Would you wait for me if it takes too long?” He looked up at her, eyes shining from the tears and the fear of losing her.

“I am not willing to give up on us, darling,” she stroke his cheek the same way she had done it a hundred times, “let alone giving up on you. You’re my king, my husband, the father of my children, and on top of it, you’re the love of my life,” she smiled weakly at him. “If you love me, give me time to figure out the same things, and when we’ve done enough thinking, we’ll sit and talk about it.”

“I don’t want to leave you, any of you.”

“Trust me, love, it’ll be best for all of us,” she leaned forward to kiss her husband’s temple with tenderness. Although she knew it would, eventually, be for the better, she didn’t know how long it would actually take.

T’Challa stood up and kissed the top of his wife’s head and silently left. Only he didn’t notice a young boy that spied on them from behind the door next to the office.


	10. Chapter 10

(Y/N) laid on the bed of the master bedroom in complete silence. It had been three months since she last saw or spoke to T’Challa. She grew lonelier, and usually locked herself either in her bedroom or within her mind. She had a pregnancy and a child to take care of, but both of them had been neglected.

“Mommy, do you want to go out for a walk?” Leo asked, gently stroking the back of his mother’s hand. “The day’s perfect for some sun, what do you say?”

“Not today, honey,” (Y/N) replied. “Mommy’s feeling a little tired,” Leo didn’t seem to settle with that answer, and immediately got up on the bed next to her. He snaked an arm over her stomach and cuddled together.

“What happened with daddy? He hasn’t been here for a while… Are you going to split up?”

“What?” (Y/N) squealed. “Where did you get that idea from?” 

“I’m not blind mom,” he said in a simplistic voice, “besides, I’ve been hearing you fight for most of my life. I think it was only a matter of time until… shit hit the fan. Not to mention I saw him leave the other day.”

“Language, Leo, oh my god!” (Y/N) scolded him; swatting gently, almost jokingly, the top of his head as she tried to hold back a laughter. “And for the record, we don’t fight, we just—”

“Have very loud conversations,” he chimed in, saying the words as monotonously as possible. “I know, I know. Mom, do you want to tell me what is going on? Like a heart to heart conversation, completely honest, for once in our lives? I know things are rough because of the many duties I have, but I want to know your opinion… Do you really want me to be the Black Panther? Do you really think I can?”

“Silly me for having raised a smart child,” she shook her head and chuckled. “You’re way too smart for your own safety, Leo,” (Y/N) rolled off on her side to face her son; she hadn’t realized how much he had grown in the past few years. She stroke his cheek gently. “I can’t believe you’re my child sometimes. Okay, let’s have an honesty time, you and I. What is it you want to know?”

“First, do you love him?”

“Yes, sweetie, I love him deeply, and not only as the father of my children,” the queen sighed, “but also as a person. We’ve been together for about 10 years, and I can’t imagine my life without him. I don’t think we’ve ever told you the history of us right?” Leo shook his head. “Before my father died, he said he had arranged an engagement with the prince of Wakanda, your father. Back then, the female heirs couldn’t be on the throne by themselves. I hadn’t met him before, and so I ran away from here, and you know, life’s a little funny sometimes, and we ended up meeting on the road, but we didn’t tell each other who we were in reality. Long story short, we fell in love, but things took the wrong turn and we were caught in our lies. My father took me back and told me that the law changed because the people wanted me at all costs; your grandpa wasn’t the most liked person ever,” she chuckled. “And with your father, we didn’t speak for a few months until we got reunited at a meeting at a United Nations meeting. We haven’t separated ever since.”

“Wow, that’s quite a story, but you still haven’t answered.”

“I thought the story was going to be quite self-explanatory, darling,” (Y/N) chuckled again, “but if you must know, yes, I love your father, with ups and downs I do.”

“How do you feel about me, becoming the next Black Panther?”

She exhaled heavily. “That’s complicated, but my only problem with it is that you get hurt. A mother never wants her child getting hurt, and you, being the first one after the one we lost, it’s a double fear. I understand it’s a thing you have to do; I understand the meaning of duties, I’ve had them my whole life, from a very young age, but I don’t want that for you. I lived that, and it wasn’t fun. I didn’t get normal,” she shook her head and looked at him with concerned eyes. “I’m trying to give you normal because I don’t want you to miss things from your childhood. I don’t want you to blame me for the first years of your life, because it's me who you're living with. I don’t want you to go through the same terrible things I did. I don’t to make the same mistakes that my father made with me; I’m trying to give you a happy, normal childhood, but now that your father and I aren’t exactly together…” (Y/N) shrugged and twisted her lips. “How do you feel about the many responsibilities that you have for your future?”

“I’m terrified, mom,” he said simply. “I’m frightened because I have two great predecessors. You are great at what you do mom. I hear how people talk about you and I’m afraid that when my time comes… they will not talk about me like that. People love you, and on top of that, they respect you. And dad’s just…” he sighed heavily and looked away. “I know he means well when he tells me how I should be, but… I feel like he’s trying to make of me something I am not,” the young prince hid his face in his mother’s chest. “I love my African heritage, I don’t think I can imagine my life without it, and the idea of becoming the Black Panther is awesome, because I get to be a superhero—like uncle Steve, but cooler. But I don’t think dad understands that I am still a child, and he’s so stubborn—I mean, I bet you know this better than anyone… I just don’t want him to change how I feel about my duties… I know what they are, and I know I can’t escape from them, but I don’t want to live my life loathing them. Not when I can’t do anything to change that…” He fell silent for eternal minutes. “Mom, are you going to fix things with dad?”

“Eventually,” (Y/N) replied. “I am not giving up on him. We made our vows, and I will fight for him with all I have,” she gulped, fearing the next words, “but if your father doesn’t want to get back together… There isn’t much I can do then,” (Y/N) shrugged again, but soon regained an authoritative look and voice. “Leo, listen to me. I don’t want you to worry about our situation, we love you and that’s unchangeable, and I don’t want you talking to your father about getting back together with me or anything—no, Leo, I’m serious,” she cut the child off before he could refuse. “We will solve this our own way.”

“And what if—”

“Leo, don’t,” (Y/N) warned. “You’re a child, and regardless of how highly educated and dangerously smart you are, I don’t want you snooping around our business. We are the adults here and we decide how it all goes down.”

“Even if it means getting a divorce?”

“Your dad is not a quitter, and neither am I. I told you, I am not giving up on this marriage, so you shouldn’t worry,” she sighed. “You said the day was pretty outside, right?” Leo nodded. “Do you want to go for ice cream to the kitchen and have a walk?” The child nodded again, smiling widely at his mother’s idea.


	11. Chapter 11

(Y/N) wasn’t sure of what to expect when she got the e-mail. She hadn’t heard from T’Challa in a few months, and they had only met a few times but they didn’t exchange any other word apart from the polite small talk. She missed her husband terribly, and she wanted to turn back time and change everything that happened in the past years.

The “invitation” specified their meeting place and hour the day right after she arrived to Wakanda, giving her some time to settle and mentally prepared herself, and when the moment came, she headed to Queen Ramonda’s office. She met T’Challa at the door and nervously greeted him.

“You look pretty,” he timidly commented as he placed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I mean, you have always been pretty, but you do have that… glow,” he smiled lightly. “How have you been? Have you been feeling well?”

“Yes,” the queen placed a hand on her growing belly. “Baby peanut and I have been feeling well… what about you?” She hurried to ask. “How are you?”

“Oh, great! You’re both here, and perfectly on time,” Queen Ramonda interrupted the conversation and made them walk inside. “(Y/N), you look gorgeous! That belly is so round, I want to cry! Please, take a seat,” she indicated the chairs in front of her desk and she took the seat behind it. “I know I’m not supposed to meddle in your marriage, but I don’t want to see your family torn apart,” Queen Ramonda was angry, but she hardly showed it. “My grandchildren’s happiness is at stake, and I will not let you two ruin that.”

“Mother—” T’Challa interrupted.

“Mother, nothing,” the Queen Mother rose her hand and shut her son. “You’re gonna have to excuse my language, but you really need to get your shit together. T’Challa, you know thing have always been your way, but you’re married now. You can’t have the upper hand all the time. If you do, you’ll only end up with a broken marriage, alone, and perhaps, without a successor,” her voice was firm and almost scary. “You need to stop acting like you rule the world, because you don’t.”

“I just want the best for my son,” T’Challa protested.

“We know, but sometimes you have to let someone else take the wheel. (Y/N) is the mother of both your children; she has some well-deserved authority over them, which now brings me to you, darling,” the queen mother looked at her daughter in law. “Sweetheart, I know you don’t want to fight,” she said in a tender voice. “It’s time consuming, and it’s not worth the effort. But you can’t spend your life and your marriage avoiding confrontation. Step up and take your place in the marriage and in your son’s life. Take the wheel, because if not, you’re going to be miserable, and I don’t want that for you… for any of you.”

“I really appreciate the effort, Ramonda,” Queen (Y/N) sighed, “but I believe this is a matter I have to solve with my husband.”

“And have you?” The older queen rose an accusing eyebrow at them. “Because when you’ve met you’ve only exchanged a few words… if any at all. I know I do not have to meddle in your marriage,” she repeated with a tired voice, “or the way you raise my grandchildren, but don’t ask me to do nothing when I see you two, children, living miserable lives… Is there anything you want to tell T’Challa?”

“I love you, I really do,” she looked at her husband with tender eyes, “but I don’t want to fight for the upper hand, I shouldn’t be,” she shook her head lightly. “I told you a hundred times before, this is a marriage, not a tug of war. You have no idea how hurt I was when you went crazy about Leo’s education. Everyone tried to convince me to give in, to let you win… but why? Why did I have to? I mean—I know we won’t often se eye toe ye but… oh god, why do you have to be so goddamned stubborn T’Challa!” She exclaimed indignantly. “I have done nothing but being the perfect wife, be a perfect husband too, it’s only fair!”

“I don’t know what else to say apart from how sorry I am…” the king lowered his gaze to his hands that rested on his lap. “It’s been very hard to accept that I can’t win all the time… It’s not in my nature to lose. It’s never been,” he shook his head. “I know I’ve said this many times before, that I will change for you and for our children, but being without you has been…” he gulped harshly and looked at his wife. “I can’t be without you. I don’t think I can… I don’t think I want to either… Please, come back…”

“This is really your last chance,” (Y/N) sighed heavily. “I’m going to do this because the one thing I am not giving up is on you… and I don’t think I can do this on my own…” she lamented, taking one of his hands to her baby bump. “We miss you terribly…” She placed one hand on his cheek and caressed it gently. “Talk to your son too, I think you owe him an apology.”


	12. Chapter 12 - The end

“Leo, keep an eye on Alicia!” Queen (Y/N) shouted. She knew she was going to keep an eye on them too, but Leo liked the responsibility of being the older brother, so she let him have some fun. “Hey,” she patted T’Challa’s knee, “what’s going on through that crazy head of yours?”

T’Challa was absentmindedly looking forward as the sun set on the ocean, giving the sky orange and purple colors. He had taken his family in a well-deserved vacation to the same place that he had taken (Y/N) about 10 years ago, before Leo was born. They had been through hard times, and he couldn’t think of anything better than bringing her to paradise on earth. Though paradise didn’t seem to last that long, he cherished the memory, for he had fallen in love with his wife there once again.

“T’Challa?” (Y/N) asked again.

“Sorry,” he shook his head and chuckled. “What were you saying?”

“I was asking what you were thinking.”

“That I remember I brought you to this place like 10 years ago. We had been fighting a lot back then, and it was just an awful time for both of us, together and separately. So I brought you here and we had like a second honeymoon for a few days.”

“I remember,” the queen sighed. “It was around the time your father died and we lost Lucille. We were really having a hard time,” she chuckled gloomily. “But look at us, 10 years later,” she looked at T’Challa and smiled widely. “I love you, I thought you should know.”

“I know, and I love you too. I just hope you never forget that.”

They had everything they needed right there. They had their family running free in the sand, and most importantly, they had each other. Through the ups and downs, the heartbreak and the love. They were still there for each other, and they would be there until their last breaths. 

Their lives weren’t easy, and stress got the worst of them most of the time, but their unchanging love was strong enough to beat all that. They had been through everything, but they stayed together for good.


End file.
